


Poetry Meme

by lost_spook



Category: Angel: the Series, Blake's 7, Chalet School - Elinor M. Brent-Dyer, Doctor Who, Press Gang, Sapphire and Steel, Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 demi-drabbles written for a meme on LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry Meme

**Author's Note:**

> Results of two rounds of this poetry meme:
> 
>  
> 
> _1: Pick five fandoms._
> 
>  
> 
> _2: Visit[this site](http://plagiarist.com/poetry/random/) to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list 'em in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)_
> 
>  
> 
> _3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting - make your brain explode!), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration._
> 
>  
> 
> _4: Bravo! Have a cookie._

***

**1\. Blake’s 7: _spatter of dry clay sticking yellow on his left sleeve_**

It’s a tell-tale sign, a speck of dirt that unwittingly records what otherwise will never be noted: a death, a burial – a thing that never happened. He’s losing count of how many now as the Federation endlessly rewrites its history. 

Yellow mark on a black sleeve. He brushes it away.

***

**2\. Sapphire & Steel: _lies unblessed in my hand_**

Sapphire holds it in her palm: it’s an old necklace, tarnished and blackened silver framing a garnet. But to her it screams: once it choked the life from its wearer, it’s a potent memory, Time’s weapon. It tastes of blood. Yet Sapphire smiles: she holds the trigger – and Time loses.

***

**3\. Doctor Who: _of candy wrappers – airborne. Everything_**

“They’re not.” The Doctor grins.

Amy raises an eyebrow. “They _look_ like wrappers.”

The Doctor releases a handful. They float away: pink, yellow and white. “They’re leaves,” he says. “If sweets grow on trees, how else is that going to work?”

She laughs. It’s somehow all the reasons she’s here.

***

**4\. Press Gang: _Though art’s hid causes are not found_**

“It’s a good story,” says Lynda, although with a grudging note. “Who found out about – you know, the science teacher and the –?”

“Colin.”

Lynda thinks of asking _how_ , but halts. They look at each other.

“Yeah,” says Sarah. “I didn’t ask, either.”

“Let’s just hope it wasn’t anything criminal.”

***

**Angel: _And if you eat more than you need_**

“Not that I’ve any wish to curb your appetites…” Darla flickers a wicked look at him “…but this is the third mob in a month, Angelus.”

He grins, though they’re hiding in an alleyway, backs against the wall.

“And if you’d _said_ , you know I always enjoy a good massacre…”

***

**1\. Blake’s 7: _But most of all to give them faith_**  
 _Why do we fight against such odds?_

The point was not each Federation target taken out, but hope at last, and more, to allow the people to believe: there were other ways; the oppression would end, the tyrants would fall. And the word that restored that faith, whispered from colony to colony across the stars was: _Blake_.

***

**2\. Chalet School: _Nor darkness_**  
 _Joey reflects on comforting a school girl in the War._

There were dark hours, Joey knew. She had faced black times herself, but they passed, and through them she found means to comfort others. Nothing evil endured forever: not pain, grief, nor darkness. She believed their Peace League would outlast the war: and, yes, joy _would_ come with the dawn.

***

**3\. Doctor Who: _She dropt as softly as a star_**  
 _The Doctor holds each single life as dearly as the Daleks never could._

The Doctor had known life, and he had known death; the two went hand in hand. What he did was to remember them, each one he had known and valued and lost: named for each of them a star in his sky. Tonight there was another: he called it Katarina.

***

**4\. Press Gang: _So many things I thought I had forgotten_**  
 _It's like he's never been away_

“Tom’s article is 500 words short, and that thing on page four is useless. See to it, can’t you?”

Kenny said, “Lynda -”

“Well? You’ve got years to make up for, Phillips.”

He grinned. He’d thought returning would be strange, but it was like waking up; this the only reality.

***

**5\. Spooks: _Weeds triumphant ranged_.**  
 _This is it, at last._

Ruth dropped the phone, and looked to her computer, searching for words. This was the shadow they lived with, and they told themselves it would never happen, but one careless mistake and millions died; civilisation on the casualty list. How to say, she wondered, shaking, that today was that day?

***


End file.
